


The Fancier Party

by I_am_Best



Series: WOYtober 2016 [5]
Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, OC, Other, Rare Pairings, WOY meets Clue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_Best/pseuds/I_am_Best
Summary: Sourdough throws a not-at-all-suspicious dinner party, where everyone's got a character, fun activities are planned, and someone is going to die.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt found [here](http://dontgetusedtoit.tumblr.com/post/149854345058/woy-tober-challenge). I'm also the only Sourdough/Wander (mustard and mayo? does it even have a name?) ship in this sea, I feel. And this probably takes place.... after "The Axe" but before "The Battle Royale."

The orbble bubble popped in a mist of perfume as they landed in front of the mansion. Wander sat primly on Sylvia's back -- side saddle, as his layers of petticoats didn't allow for much straddling.

When the packages had been delivered to Wander and Sylvia two planets back by a pair of Beefeaters, Sylvia had been justifiably suspicious. They'd also come with invitations for a murder mystery party lettered in what looked like real gold. Because rich people. Wander had ignored the letters and a healthy level of wariness in favor of diving into his package and rising again as a great, glittery cloud of cotton candy death topped by his hat. Sylvia had been blinded by some of the bling Sourdough had given Wander. The very real, very expensive bling. Rich people, again.

Sylvia's outfit was far less... any of that. A dress, cape, choker and gloves. All dark blue velvet and tastefully understated. Wander had already managed to shed all over it, and they'd only just arrived at the party. The sky was overcast, and a damp wind blustered through, promising rain.

One of Sourdough's Beefeaters met them at the door with a pair of corsages displayed on pillows. Yellow for Wander, purple for Sylvia.

"I guess we're not paired up for this party," Wander said as he fiddled with the flowers. "I wonder who has the matching boutonniere. I hope it's Hater. I saw the Skullship parked out there."

Sylvia swallowed a sound of disgust as she followed Wander into the foyer. It had been done up in dark colors, with somber lighting and a collection of guests already arrived. As soon as they were in, lightning cracked and rain started to fall.

"Hiya, Hater!" Wander said, bouncing off to greet him. "What color's your boutonniere? Purple? Wow! You're paired up with Sylvia! How about you, Mr. Peepers?"

Wander came up sharp at the glare Peepers sent his way. He wore a suit but had a pink corsage on his wrist. One that matched the flowers pinned to Emperor Awesome's chest. Awesome shoved past Wander to talk to Hater.

"Dude. Hater. Pal. Wanna swap flowers? You can stay with your nerdy boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend. Why would you even think -- no! Just for that, I'm definitely not swapping. You can keep my nerdy not-boyfriend commander."

"Thank grop," Sylvia said. "I'd rather deal with you than that guy." Awesome's shark-toothed grin slumped. Sylvia checked her character card. "So you're my husband, Harry."

Wander left the group to their chatter to find his date. He saw all colors of the rainbow and a few not technically on the visible spectrum, but no soft, buttery yellow like his corsage. While he hunted, he introduced himself to people as his character, Lady Kali, retired journalist who'd won several awards for her coverage of the suffragette rebellion on Quillon VI and was now known primarily for her charity balls. Wander met Miss Zyg, who was blue with watery wings and a heart-shaped head, paired with Kragthar or Lady Wimbleton as he was now known, and Misters Midi and Mpeg, one who had the distinctive droplet shape and flower antennae of someone from Bingleborp and the other who had a fishbowl of water on his head and some very stylish accessories.

Before he could introduce himself to the rest, the doors closed. Wander found himself standing unpaired and completely alone in the middle of the room. He twisted his corsage nervously, feeling a little left out. Maybe he didn't have a partner, or his partner hadn't shown.

"Is the Lady Kali perhaps looking for her husband?" A voice said in Wander's ear.

Wander turned around to find Sourdough at his eye-level. Two Beefeaters flanked him, one holding his plate, which was decorated in familiar yellow flowers. Wander squealed and cupped his face abashedly. "Aw, you've gone and made an honest woman of me, Sourdough?"

"Lord Ashadha, please. What do you think of my little party?"

"Oh gosh, this is such a fun idea! I've never done a murder mystery party before." A Beefeater offered Wander his arm for Sourdough, and Wander latched on. They began to do the rounds, Sourdough welcoming people and making sure they were in character.

"Yes, well, I thought this would lighten the mood. Distract us from that Dominator fellow."

"He really is scary, huh? Though I bet once he's settled in, he'll be a real fun guy."

"Yes," Sourdough said thoughtfully. "But let's not talk about him. We have a game to play." The other Beefeater hit the floor with the base of his staff, drawing everyone's attention.

"Thank you for coming to my little party, everyone. The rules are simple," Sourdough announced. "A murder will occur. You must find the killer before they strike again or morning comes. Your characters all have their secrets and their motives for murder. No powers, no cheating, and no breaking character. You'll be excused from the party if you do. Violently. _Kragthar_."

"My name's, uh, Lady Wimbleton," Kragthar shouted from the back of the room. He coughed and affected an attempt at a more feminine voice, though it was just as gravelly as before. "I mean, of course."

"Anyway, the winner will receive a prize. And I do not skimp out on my prizes, as I'm sure many of you remember from the last party I tried to host for you ingrates." His tone was cutting. Sourdough took a moment to compose himself and continued in a much calmer tone. "My name is Lord Ashadha, this is my wife Lady Kali. And this is our ancestral estate, built by my great great grandparent after making more money than you can fathom through dirty deals and wise investments during the Star Gold Rush. We'll get to know each other better over dinner. Let the party begin!"

* * *

Everyone stared at their plates, except Wander, who happily helped himself to more fancy, pink-tinted salad. Aside from his salad, the only food on the table were sandwiches. Piles of them, of all different kinds. And with Sourdough glaring at them with his olive-and-pimento eyes, it made it hard to take even a single bite.

Finally, Hater broke the tension. "Oh my grop, whatever. I don't care!" he screamed as he grabbed two sandwiches and shoved them both into his mouth, spewing crumbs as he spoke. "Oooooh, these are so good."

With that, everyone far less enthusiastically helped themselves, eyes constantly glancing between Sourdough and the food as though every sandwich was poisoned.

Sourdough rolled his eyes as Hater talked and ate simultaneously. "And that is why you are just a low-class sanitation engineer, Mr. Harrow," he snipped at Hater, who flicked him off and ate another sandwich. Sourdough turned his attention to Wander. "How are you liking your meal, my dear?"

"Oh, it's just lovely, sugar lump," Wander said with a giggle, having affected a more proper if still very Southern accent. "But aren't you gonna have any?"

"I don't need to eat. A surprising benefit to being a sandwich."

"Oh, that's neat. I'd be sad to not eat, though. I love food."

One of the Beefeaters stroked Wander's cheek as Sourdough said. "I know you do, my dear."

Sylvia cleared her throat, drawing Wander's attention. "Hey, Lady.... Kali. I need to use the restroom. Come with?"

They disappeared from the room. Peepers got to his feet. "I need to use the restroom, too."

"Want me to come with?" Emperor Awesome parrotted with an air kiss in Peepers's general direction.

"No."

* * *

Sylvia checked that nobody else was in the bathroom before she turned to Wander and put her hands on his shoulders. "Wande--"

"Lady Kali," Wander corrected. "We don't wanna get kicked out. Or killed, which might have been implied."

"Fine. Lady Kali. Don't you think Lord whatever his name was is being weird? Especially toward you. I get the feeling this is some sort of revenge plot."

"Well, Lord Ashadha, which is his name, 'n' I go way back. Back when he was Queen Entozoa, even --"

Peepers flung open the door. "This is some sort of revenge plot," he announced as he stormed in. "Also, are those fancy soaps? And a couch?"

"Welcome to the ladies' restroom," Sylvia said dryly. "Mrs. Harrow. And I was just telling W... Lady Kali that."

"I'm Sir Berter T-Annon. Galactic knight. Serving the people. Etc. Etc. We need to keep alert."

Wander sat down on the edge of the counter, legs swinging, as Peepers and Sylvia discussed why they couldn't just leave the party (mostly they had idiots who didn't want to go, which Wander thought was a little rude since he was sitting right there), and trying to suss out Sourdough's goals. The door opened, and conversation died. A woman a foot or so taller than Wander with glossy, dark skin and fish-like eyes stood in the doorframe. Seeing the three of them clustered up, silent as they stared at her, she backed out again.

"He's planning something with W -- Kali," Sylvia said. "He's been touching him -- her -- all night, and she's the only one who didn't get creepy sandwiches to eat."

Peepers gave a curt nod.

"Guys, guys. He's my _husband_. Of course, he's touchy-feely with me, and it'd be weird of me to eat food that looks like him."

"He's only your husband because he picked the pairs. I want you to promise me, if he makes a single move to possess you, you run away."

Wander blew a raspberry then turned around to fix his wig in the mirror. He was a brunette this time because variety was the spice of life. "Lord Ashadha can't do that for another, like, 999 years. Besides, he seems pretty okay with bein' a sandwich."

"W... Kali," Sylvia said in a warning tone. "Nobody is okay with being a sandwich."

"The game hasn't even started yet, but fine. I'll try not to get possessed by my talkin' sandwich husband."

"Evil talking sandwich husband," Peepers corrected. "Probably want to remember that while you get chummy with him. Whatever his game is, it started the instant we walked through those doors."

* * *

Wander returned to the party first, followed shortly by Peepers and Sylvia.

"What were you doing in there?" Emperor Awesome asked suspiciously as soon as Peepers sat down.

"Something you wish you could do," he snapped. "Now shut up, what is this?"

While they were away, the tables had been swapped out for smaller, round ones around the edges of the room, each with a letter-stamped board and candles.

"This is a spirit board," Sourdough announced before Awesome could take a guess. "You use it to contact the dead." He explained the rules, then sent them to find tables and begin playing.

A Beefeater caught Wander on the arm and dragged him over to a table already occupied by a pair of strangers when he tried to follow Sylvia and Hater. Wander frowned for only a moment before being distracted by these new friends he could make. One was the lady from before.

"Hi, I'm Lady Kali."

"Sally," the lady said.

"Who do you wanna summon from th' grave?"

She tilted her head and the beads on her frills clicked. "Hm. My entire planet was destroyed by Dominator. There were a lot of casualties. I suppose we could contact one of them. See how being dead's treating them."

Wander gaped at her casual tone.

A Beefeater patted Wander's hand as Sourdough said, "Sally is from a species unable to inflect their voice."

"That's not --"

"Anyway, there will be no summoning of that kind of dead. Only whatever specters haunt this manor are approved. Dim the lights, please!"

The lights lowered, leaving everyone in their own bubbles of weak candle light.

They went through the ritual of summoning, fingers (where applicable) on a small slider as Sourdough intoned a script. Wander's brows furrowed as he stared at the slider. He knew this was just for play, but ghosts and rituals and all that gave him an itch between his shoulder blades something awful. He felt like he was being watched.

A window shattered. Wind and rain gusted in, and the candles all extinguished. Wander screamed and leaped for the first person available.

* * *

It took only a minute to get the lights back up and the shutters closed. Wander opened one eye, then the other. He was in Sally's arms. She dropped him, leaving him to get to his feet on his own. Some people had stood in the sudden commotion, and everyone looked confused.

On Sourdough's plate sat only half of Sourdough. One olive eye and tteeth marks all across.

Wander screamed again and swooned into Sally's arms.

"That's gruesome," she said flatly, dropping him again. Wander would clearly be getting nothing to work with from her.

He got up again and draped himself across the arm of the Beefeater holding Sourdough's plate and pressed the sandwichy bits to his bosom. "Oh my dear husband has been murdered! Whatever will I do without 'im? How can I go on? How will this poor widow survive -- eh?"

One of the Beefeaters held out an envelope for Wander, who deposited the now disheveled remains of Sourdough back onto the plate. He opened the envelope and skimmed the letter inside. "Oh. I control you now?" he asked. They nodded their silver ball heads in tandem. "And whoever finds his killer gets his most prized possession? Which is me 'n' my jewels? That's some real antiquated thinkin'."

Wander climbed down and the Beefeaters moved to flank him. Everyone was looking at him.

He adjusted his wig. "So, everyone. Lord Ashadha is dead. I know it's sad, but there's no tellin' if he'll be the only one. We must find who did this to him. And I guess me 'n' my super fancy jewelry will marry whoever does."

"Aw, what? That prize sucks!" Hater yelled.

Peepers wasn't as put off by the prize as Hater, and he practically materialized beside Wander to investigate his jewelry. A Beefeater pushed him away before he could start getting too handsy. "Sir! Lady Kira is wearing white-star diamonds. Four, at the least. Do you know the kind of military application those have? Even during the heyday of the Hater Empire, we only had one."

"Oh, then I blame whoever you're supposed to be," Hater said, pointing at Emperor Awesome. "Bam. Killer found!"

"I didn't kill him! I am, like, literally across the room, and I can't teleport like _some_ people."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Wander ran over and forced himself between the two as they'd inched closer and closer to scream at one another. The Beefeaters ran behind him and quickly placed themselves again on either side of him.

"Gentlemen, _please_. My husband has just been murdered, and I am beside myself with grief. I will not have my friends pointing fingers or starting fights."

The seance ruined, everyone retreated to a smaller parlor to really get to know each other as characters now that the prize was on the table.

"You doing okay, buddy?" Sylvia asked Wander.

"This is a lot more fun than I was expectin'. Look at everyone makin' nice."

"You would be okay with _this,_ " Sylvia said as she gestured at Wander and his jewelry.

"Queen Entozoa was real traditional, too. I ain't surprised Lord Ashadha's got that same sorta slant. Besides, it's not for real. Well, the marriage part. I think the jewels are for real."

"I'm still suspicious."

"You're supposed t' be. Someone was murdered tonight."

"That's not -- I meant -- just try not to be next on the list, okay?"

"I'll try!" Wander chirped.

* * *

Eventually, everyone scattered throughout the house, looking for clues. Or real food. The number of big-name villains interested in the prize killed a lot of interest in it, leaving many of the guests to just flip through books in a token effort or pilfer silverware. Wander took the opportunity to go exploring, though he couldn't get the Beefeaters to stop following him. Over the course of an hour or so, he'd found six secret passages, a handful of hidden cameras, a noose, a bloody dagger, either three identically dressed mannequins or the same mannequin moved room to room, one haunted conservatory, and thought he'd seen two or three ghosts.

A scream echoed through the house. Wander jumped for a secret passage. He burst out into a huddled group of people. Sylvia caught him around the waist with her tail and pulled him back before he could see what was in the center. Everyone was talking over each other, but the gist of what happened was easy to gather.

"That's a lot of blood."

"Were they _actually_ murdered?"

"Dude, that's like a pro hit."

"Gross."

"Diamonds aren't worth this!" Mister Midi said as he shoved past Wander and Sylvia, flower antennae quivering. Soon, they heard him yell that the door was stuck. That got everyone's attention. Sylvia, still with Wander in tow, climbed onto a couch for height.

"Somebody check the windows and any other doors," she said, quickly taking control. It took only a moment to confirm the doors were locked and the windows barred. And trying to break them just resulted in shattered furniture and statues. They moved to the parlor. "I knew something was up -- okay, this isn't about the prize. This is clearly a trap to pick us off one by one in some twisted revenge plot for the whole sandwich thing."

"Ahahah!" Sourdough's voice crackled from all around. "Absolutely correct, Mrs. Harrow."

"You're not surprising anyone by this," Peepers told him as Hater said, "Woah, really?" at the same time.

"It wasn't nobody's fault you were trapped as a sandwich, darlin'," Wander said. "Y' don't gotta kill anyone."

"Oh, I don't blame you, my dear. Minions, one of you pet my wife comfortingly. But everyone else. Every last one of you has offended me in some way, and, now, you pay for it. Unless you find who murdered me or are yourself murdered before sunrise, 6 o'clock. At which time I will be gassing the place. If you guess wrong, I will move up that time."

Hater shrugged. "Eh, I don't technically need to breathe anyway."

"But I do, sir!" Peepers shrieked. "S--Ashadha, when we get out of this, I will eat you myself."

"Save your bravado for when you find a clue, Sir T-annon." Sourdough's displaced voice faded, leaving just the general murmur of the crowd.

Wander skimmed over the gathered heads. "Has anyone seen Sally? She's kinda fishy lookin'?" he asked. The room fell deathly silent in reply.

"I've got some bad news for you, buddy," Sylvia said, finally.

* * *

Wander curled up morosely on Sylvia's back while the others went over their character information with a fine-toothed comb. This wasn't fun anymore.

Peepers compiled and sorted all the details, then announced, "We all have reason to kill Lord Ashadha. And, in many cases, each other. Was there anything he said that could serve as a clue? Lady Kali? You talked with him the most."

Wander shook his head. "Just that he doesn't need t' eat an' inherited his fortune from his great-to-the-nth grandpa who got it during the Star Gold Rush."

"Star..." Peepers looked through his list. "I'm a _galactic_ knight, and Lady Wimbleton is an _astro_ physicist. There might be something there, but I'm not willing to commit yet. He also said _find_ a clue, which means there must be one in the mansion. We'll search this place top-to-bottom. And keep your eyes peeled for any exits. "

"But it's enormous," Sylvia interrupted.

"I don't trust any of you to not actually murder me if given a chance," Emperor Awesome added. "Except you, Miss Harrow."

"That's _Mrs._ Harrow," Sylvia said pointedly. "And don't make me have to prove that I will."

Peepers climbed onto a table and clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "I highly doubt the assassin is one of us. It limits their movement too much. We'll split into groups of two -- and Lady Kali."

"Why am I by myself?" Wander whined.

"You're the only one not on Ashadha's hit list. And you're not alone, you have your guards. We're spreading as thin as is safe because we don't have a lot of time."

Sylvia's mouth was twisted into a frown, but she didn't raise any objections to Peepers's idea. Without her support, Wander sighed and resigned himself to a lonely search.

* * *

Wander got the attic and the eighteenth floor. He rifled listlessly through boxes and drawers, tossing things hither and thither, not really sure what he was supposed to be looking for. Peepers had teamed up with Sylvia to tackle the most likely locations -- office, bedroom, and the site of the murder.

"Do you guys know who did it?" he asked the Beefeaters. They stood there, unresponsive.

He settled down in a pile of old dresses to flip through a box of even older photographs. Sally being killed had really dampened the fun of this game, along with that whole hostage situation it had turned into. He smiled weakly at a few of the photographs, which turned out to be doctored pictures of Sourdough and him at events throughout the galaxy, Wander always on his Beefeater's arm. He had to give Sourdough points for his eye for detail.

Wander tucked a few of the photographs into his gown's bust and climbed to his feet. There had to be a clue _somewhere_.

* * *

"So you and Mrs. Harrow aren't really an item, right?" Emperor Awesome asked while Hater scattered bags of flour, canned foods, and other staples. Awesome was reclining against the pantry door, arms crossed.

"No. But she doesn't seem very into _you_." Hater pulled back with a bag of cheese chips and began to shove them into his mouth. "Though you're probably used to rejection, hah!"

"I am not! Chicks dig me, man. I don't have to hold a planet hostage to score."

Hater snorted. "Oh, you heard how _I_ almost got her down the aisle? That's farther than you've gotten."

Emperor Awesome sputtered, then slumped. He draped himself across a kitchen chair. "I don't know why she doesn't like me. You try and force her to marry you, and she still likes you better than me."

Hater ate a few more chips, not sure how to handle this suddenly morose Emperor Awesome. He patted him awkwardly on the back with a cheese-covered hand. "Maybe, uh, you're just not her type. She seems more into wandering do-gooders."

"Yeah, you ever notice how W-- Kali gets all the chicks and dicks and whatever else. What's up with that?"

"I know, right? He's an annoying orange cheese puff, but everyone loves him." Hater sat down across from Emperor Awesome and offered him some of his chips. "He's not even good at _helping_. Let me tell you about this time we fell into my prison dimension..."

* * *

"It's up to you and me, Zbornak," Peepers said as he flipped through files. "Kali's probably already forgotten what she's doing; Mr.s Harrow and X'kinil are useless; I don't think Lady Wimbleton can read, and the others are just extras who will likely die first."

"How about nobody else dies because we figure this out?" Sylvia asked, shaking out a drawer and scattering the papers as she looked for any that seemed important.

Peepers checked the clock above the fireplace before he went to paw through the ashes. Just in case. "We have five hours before sunrise."

* * *

At three hours before sunrise, people began to trickle back into the parlor where they'd set up an impromptu base of operations. Peepers did a count. Only nine people were there. Two groups, gone.

"Maybe they're still lookin'," Wander offered.

"We don't have time to check. Assume the worst. What did you find?"

"Mostly some pictures of me 'n' my husband at parties, and rooms that nobody's been in for years 'n' years."

"Nothing in the kitchen or, uh, those other places we definitely checked," Hater said.

"We found some books laying around," Kragthar said as he placed them on the pitifully empty evidence table. "A Mooplexian meditation guide, _To My Space Mistress_ , and _The Ins and Outs of Evil Empires_."

"Some property deeds for Lord Ashadha, some letters between him and Lady Kali, a burnt letter, and business deals with _you_ , Lady Wimbleton."

"Me? I would never!" Kragthar said, voice pitching up into a screech of indignation. "Or, uh. Maybe. I mean, I won't rule it out."

Peepers rubbed his eye. "We have to be sure, though. What's your story, again, Miss Zyg?"

Wander sat at the table while the others tried to find if there was enough evidence to safely blame Kragthar or Miss Zyg. Sylvia settled in next to him as he read over the letters.

"He went through a lot of trouble for this," Wander said conversationally to Sylvia.

"Yeah, I really admire his attention to detail. Especially that whole we actually die part."

"No, really. I mean, yeah, that too, but he's built up this whole narrative." Wander grabbed all the photos and papers and began to put them in chronological order. He decided the burnt letter matched the handwriting, so added it to the line-up. "And t' end it, Lord Ashadha's letter of instruction." He reached up into his wig and produced the letter.

"Oh," he said. Nobody paid him any attention. "Oh!" Wander said, louder.

"What!" Peepers spun on Wander. "We don't have time for your cute positive friendship fluff."

"I think _I_ killed Lord Ashadha."

"You -- what? Why? Wouldn't you have the least reason to?"

"I dunno. He reneged on deals with Lady Wimbleton. He blocked your promotion, Sir T-Annon. He was just generally kinda rude t' ya, Harry. But he was literally gonna marry me off t' whoever finds his killer."

"You didn't know that until after he died, though."

"He had to've written that letter before, an' I used t' be a journalist, remember? I covered the suffragette rebellion of Quillon VI, which is the only specific thing mentioned on my card. I was thinkin' it was just Lord Ashadha bein' a lot ol' fashioned because Queen Entozoa was, but he's old money, so he'd be real traditional. What if that was a matter of contention? I nose around, find out his will says I'm property, and, well... It's not like the space police'd do much t' the widow of someone like Lord Ashadha."

"She is the only one affected by any outcome," Sylvia said, gently moving Wander to look over the papers.

Hater snorted. "I thought you all died if we didn't find the killer."

"In the story, sir," Peepers said, patience running thin as a clock chimed away another hour. "And making _you_ Lady Kali would actively lower suspicion. Who could imagine the pacifistic space hippy is the killer? Even I dismissed you initially."

The lights went out. "Oh, come on!" Peepers cried. Then yelled. A crash. Someone grunted.

"Hater -- Harry, sorry! Can ya give us some light, please?" Wander asked.

Green electricity crackled, illuminating the parlor in a toxic glow. A shadowy figure was actively disappearing out the door. Sylvia leaped over the pile that Peepers and Emperor Awesome had collapsed into, but just barely missed the door closing. By the time she got into the hall, they were gone.

Hater actually made it to Peepers and Awesome before anyone else, even Wander. "Are you dead!" he yelled, scooping Peepers up into his non-electrified hand and shaking him.

Peepers tried to wriggle his way free. "Sir -- sir, no, I'm fine! What about Awe--X'kinil? I think he was the target."

Hater nudged him. Awesome rolled over and grunted. "He's fine," Hater announced.

Wander actually got down and checked. "I think he's been poisoned."

"He's probably _made_ of drugs. He can handle a bit of poison. He's fine," Hater repeated, waving his hand dismissively. The light in the room wobbled and jumped with the movement. "So we got our killer, yeah? It's you?"

Wander looked around the room. A consensus of nods. "I gue--ess!" He yelped as he was picked up by Hater and brandished. "Wander or Lady Kali or whatever is the killer!"

The lights came back on.

"Hah, I solved it. Where's my jewels?" Hater said, flipping Wander around as though he'd decided to hide the gems under his skirts.

A second pair of Beefeaters entered the parlor, bearing Sourdough, whole and unbitten, on a plate. "Wander solved this, so he gets the jewelry."

Wander pried himself free of Hater's grip and unclipped his necklace. "That's awful nice of ya, Sourdough, but I was thinkin' 'bout those folks who ya murdered. It doesn't make me feel very good t' take these. Do they have families or friends?"

Sourdough laughed. "Most were low-grade villains. No ties."

Sylvia raised an eyebrow at that, given one of the guests had been from Bingleborp, a place not particularly known for producing villains, but without a real name there wasn't much they could do to check.

"What about Sally?"

"I'm sure she'll be happy to take a white-star diamond off of your hands. 4llor?"

Sally slipped between the Beefeaters, wearing a black, skin-tight suit with several pouches on a utility belt. She plucked one of the gems out of Wander's hand as he gaped, then made her exit out a window before anyone thought to try to stop her.

"Are we done here?" Hater asked, interest already lost now that he wasn't getting anything out of this.

"You're free to go," Sourdough said, his Beefeaters stepping aside so the party guests could trickle out of the room. Kragthar picked up Emperor Awesome after promising Wander he'd take him to a hospital, and left after Miss Zyg, Peepers, and the others.

Hater hung back and leaned down to talk to Sourdough. "So, does that assassin lady have a business card?"

"Sir! We are not hiring any more bounty hunters!" Peepers yelled from farther down the hall. "Now come on, we fell behind schedule for this stupid party!"

Sourdough slipped a card into Hater's robe pocket as he passed, muttering about bossy subordinates. That left Wander and Sylvia. Wander shooed Sylvia out then closed the door. He quickly stripped out of his outfit and tucked it and its jewelry away in his hat. He needed to talk to Sourdough, but as Wander, not some costume.

"Are you doin' okay, Sourdough?" he asked, perching on the arm of the Beefeater holding Sourdough's plate.

"I'm a _sandwich_ , Wander. And I'll be a sandwich for a thousand years, unless I find a loophole. Even in my later years as Entozoa, I was independent. People took me seriously. They feared me."

Wander smothered a giggle. "Nah, you were a sweetie. You still are, aside from this whole... occasion. Don't worry 'bout what other people think of ya."

Sourdough sighed. "You can say that. You do whatever you want, anyway."

"That's why ya like me." Wander planted a kiss on one of Sourdough's olive eyes then hopped off the Beefeater. He paused at the door. "Also you're rich 'n' immortal. What've you gotta prove t' anyone?"

"Do you see me as a threat?"

"You just killed people outta petty spite. I consider that threatenin'."

"As a conqueror. Compared to Hater."

Wander had a spark of realization. Sourdough thought he had something to prove to _him_. It hadn't been about anyone else. He thought on this a moment. "As a conqueror, you aren't that easy to stop."

"You think Hater's an easier mark?"

"Among other things," Wander said delicately. "If puttin' you into a sandwich didn't slow ya down, what could I ever do against ya?"

Sourdough's crust curled up into a smile, followed by raucous, definitely evil, laughter. It cut off when Sylvia stuck her head into the room.

"Wander, can we leave yet? Hater and Awesome are being weirdly chummy, and Kragthar's trying to ask out Miss Zyg. It's creeping me out. It's creeping _her_ out too, I think."

"K, Syl! Bye, Sourdough!"

Wander left Sourdough and hopped up on Sylvia's back. A bubble later, and they were off.

"So what was that all about?" Sylvia asked.

"Sourdough just wasn't feelin' very confident, bein' a sandwich and all. I think he's better, now."

"I'm so glad to hear that," Sylvia said dryly.

"I'm sorry 'bout draggin' ya into a murder scheme. Wanna go to Slarnack's for pie?"

"Absolutely. And you're going to tell me all about this weird thing you have with Sourdough over however much jellyfish pie a white-star diamond can buy."

Wander's face scrunched in disgust. "That's a lot of jellyfish pie."

"It sounds like you've got a lot to tell."


End file.
